private i cry, i pray, mon dieu ☆ blazestar

[edenberry ?!]

Fireflypaw, as much as they'd wanted to think bitterly of inexperienced paws, had been nothing short of helpful. He had gentle paws, marked by seasons of delicate practice and more recent moons where his efforts were needed in urgency. Stinging poultices pressed into fresh wounds-- they stung and Edenpaw was no brave hero capable of bearing through it with gritted teeth. Most of the process had been as painless as he could manage but... the fact remained that half their face had been marred by one self-righteous action.. by a liar.

Even as they'd stumbled to SkyClan they'd had the fleeting thought to just.. disappear. To go back to their Twoleg and never be a bother to anyone again. Seeing the pincushion silhouette of their mentor had already made them regret it more... and the watchful eyes of an already exhausted leader made the skin along their spine shudder. Blazestar was sure to be furious with them; he had not revealed himself to be a wrathful tom, one of anger and cruelty but the fear of his authority was harder to wrestle with. In all technicalities, Edenpaw had broken the rules.. and not too long ago another apprentice had too and gotten herself into a mess of trouble before dying in battle to clear her name. Brightflame. Would Edenpaw end up just like her? Dead... only appreciated after their worthless hide had stopped moving?

That would require being a good warrior first, they think sourly, slinking across the camp's edges as they tried stubbornly to be unnoticed. The last thing they wanted was more pitied glances or horrified stares. SkyClan had been a playful escape and quickly now they learned why Silversmoke was so disdained by their eagerness to rush into the dangers they couldn't see between shades of rose. Otterpaw had been quick to make sure that the world was red instead. Everything was threat and the bi-color apprentice leapt out of their skin at every touch.

Poking their head through the gateway to their self-determined exile, they could already feel the hot swell of shame in their belly again. "Blazestar..." it is a pitiful mew, hardly loud enough to be heard. "You.... you said you wanted to talk to me?" It was a fruitless idea to try to play it stupid. They knew exactly why he wanted to speak and in a more... private setting no less. "I promise I wasn't trying to get into trouble," it bears repeating, as if saying it over and over again might reduce the consequences or absolve them of guilt. It is a childish thought. But Edenpaw had never really grown past that kit-ish mentality, never been forced to until now.​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar lies soberly in his den. As the shadows deepen, as the light leaves the sky and the moon begins to crest, the Ragdoll begins to feel some apprehension. Tawnystripe lies dead, their funereal vigil held in camp, and Edenpaw’s battered body begins to creep his direction. He can see their silhouette, lit with moon, at the mouth of his den. Blazestar… Their voice is high, tight. Pitiful. Whiny. They stumble in, their voice thick with some perceived guilt.

“I promise I wasn’t trying to get into trouble,” they murmur. Blazestar fixes them with an intense dark blue stare, pausing only to linger on the patched-up injuries. “Why do you keep saying that? What did you do, Edenpaw?” He shifts in his nest, eyes narrowing. “What is it you did, and where? Tell me everything that happened to you.”

, ”​

​

 

[edenberry ?!]

He looks so languid and regal, laying casually in his nest. If it weren't for the fact he held futures in his paws, Edenpaw might be able to admire the beauty of something like that- a full coat, cared for with a careful tongue and eyes that wash over them like waterfalls in their depth. They search them desperately for a sign of how he might actually be feeling... Tawnystripe must've been his friend too right? Wasn't Blazestar friends with all the warriors? They can't see anything... and gingerly they tuck themself the rest of the way into the den, eager to be free of the open space where they might be stared after.

Glancing quickly away, ears flick to listen to anyone approaching, anyone lingering... Did he have spies? That would be a cool thing to have... But the thought is interrupted by a press for information, an explanation. Yeah.... yeah..... That was only fair.

"Well..." their paws shift, tucking closer as they sink into a crouch, "I... I went to go see a friend at the border! I told him I'd check on him! I feel bad for what happened to RiverClan..." They scrunch up their nose, uncomfortable with describing him as a friend after this point. But if they were honest, they wouldn't be in trouble maybe? "I know the borders, I promise Tawnystripe showed them to me," said as a preface, to defend the dead from being dishonored with their mistake. "He invited me- well, I thought... that's what he said... To come see what SkyClan looked like from his side of the river!"

Their ears flatten, already aware of how stupid it was to hear it told aloud. "He tricked me," they grumble, mostly to themself rather than the leader they were appealing to. It had to be that, right? There's no way they could've misunderstood the way he'd swam beside them to be sure they could cross, even if they had some experience with what their Twoleg called 'bath time.' "Or maybe... I misunderstood..." they backpedal suddenly, hitting a mental wall that refused to believe someone could be so malicious.​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Edenpaw is on edge, that much is certain. Blazestar does not blame them. He holds their future in the immense golden paws spread before him—though they knead soft moss now, waiting patiently for the black-streaked apprentice to explain their injuries. “Well…” Hesitation, and then they sink to their belly, submissive. “I… I went to go see a friend at the border!” They’d gone to RiverClan, they explain, to check on one of the friends they’d made during the rogue invasion. Blazestar’s whiskers tremble with surprise. He invited me, they say, and then, He tricked me.

Blazestar exhales softly. So the RiverClan apprentice had asked Edenpaw to trespass and had used that as an excuse to attack them. “It’s not a crime to have friends in another Clan,” he murmurs, “But it is against the warrior code to cross that border. Even at another cat’s invitation. Surely Tawnystripe taught you this, too.” He eyes the apprentice for a long moment, eyes the cobwebs stuck to their ivory-and-ebony fur, the expression on their face.

“Who was this apprentice who tricked you? What was his name? And do not lie to me. I must know if we are to resolve this.” He leans forward, his tail flicking.

, ”​

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[edenberry ?!]

Their ears flatten further still, finding the bend of their skull and plastering against it as a gentle chiding is offered- Tawnystripe had told them... And as much as it stung to hear, they'd walked into it all too willingly. Blazestar's voice does not rise, he does not shift to stand to swat at them for being stupid... But when was someone allowed to cross the border then? Hadn't Blazestar just left the entirety of RiverClan in, upon his invitation? What made that apprentice so different... it was his territory just as much as it was the fish that lived in that dumb river. Maybe this was another of those really hypocritical rules they struggled to understand in their wholeness.

Leaders had a lot more leeway and rule than expected, it seemed the goal post moved every time that Edenpaw thought they were finally getting the hang of things again.

But the prompt for a name makes it feel too real... like a betrayal of the friend they were sure had just... Had just what? There is no reassuring excuse that flickers behind their eyes, desperate to rationalize it. Otterpaw would surely be in trouble... And he deserves to be, is the seething voice that answers back, startling them at its fierceness, at its anger.

"Resolve," they echo it like a question... How did you resolve this? Ruin the friendship the two clans had finally gotten to secure? No amount of 'sorry' would bring back the fur at their back, would fix that damage to their face- ugly forever, more than likely. "He didn't kill me.... Maybe he thought someone was watching and got scared," pitiful hopes.

"Otterpaw..." they admit it bleakly, dragging their gaze to the floor below his paws, where his nest lay crumbled from use. "Crowpaw is friends with him too I think..." numbly, they are aware that this might not end with them. But at the very least, Bobbie's son knows how to defend himself, right?​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Blazestar watches in silence as Edenpaw echoes him. Resolve, and he ponders the word as they utter it, too. “SkyClan will not be known as the Clan that cannot respect the warrior code.” His voice is firm. He shifts in his nest, dark blue gaze hanging on the scratches marring Edenpaw’s face. “What this Otterpaw did to you was cruel, but he did not act outside of the code. You trespassed on RiverClan territory, even if it was at his invitation, and you were attacked for it.” He sighs. It’s a lesson learned, he hopes—a cruel one, as he had said, but one he hopes is as ingrained as the marks in their face.

“What do you propose I do, Edenpaw? Do you want Otterpaw dragged to the border to apologize? Do you think Smokestar would even humor such a request?” Blazestar tilts his head at the black-and-white daylight apprentice. “You have learned the true color of this friend’s pelt, I’m afraid. For that, I’m sorry. For that, and for Tawnystripe.” He sighs and thinks of Brightflame, of Cheddar, of Yukio, all gone from SkyClan now.

“You will not trespass again. For the rest of this moon, you are restricted to camp duties. I will assign you a new mentor, and the first thing you will re-learn is the warrior code. I want you to be able to recite it to me.” He rises. Though his tone is stern, it is not unkind, and the look he gives them is round with sympathy. “You will rest for the remainder of the day, though. I want to make sure your injuries heal well.”

After a few heartbeats, Blazestar flicks his tail in dismissal.

, ”​

​

 

[edenberry ?!]

And so his tongue does have barbs... even if they are softened with time, with pity, with a sort of fatherly understanding. He knows this clan to be his child, in a sense... something he had to raise from the start, guide it and shape it into what it had become now. But even children fight back, stumble, lose sight of what their parents' goals are for them. Wincing against the truth, they know it to sting just as much as claws in their pelt do. "I know..." is their meek reply at first, spring colored eyes drifting to stare at the floor again. It wasn't fair.... how come technicalities mattered more than intent?

But the line of questions, ones that don't really have answers and aren't looking for any either, make their fur burn with embarrassment and indignation. They hadn't asked for any of that... It was mean to rub it in as a childish reality. "N-no," they deny, wanting to be rid of the image of that water-loving boy's hide for eternity if possible. And Smokestar? Stars forbid they ever confront someone like that... with an eye like the sun in its blazing, furious heat. "I don't want any of that," they complain, voice tightening to a shrill pitch.

His apology sets a firm weight upon their shoulders they are certain they may collapse beneath. 'For that I am sorry,' and they believe him, 'For that, and for Tawnystripe.' Their teeth clench impossibly tight, feeling as if they are sure to shatter in their mouth. They swallow, growing more and more conscious of the tightness of their chest, like wire wrapped around their lungs and pulled tight.

And for all his kindness, he cannot show his belly. It is not good enough to simply live with the reminder every day... They had been right. They were just the new Brightflame. Surely then, death was inevitably soon... to follow in her paw-steps next. Would StarClan even welcome a kitty-pet that questioned their power, that wondered as their realness when they allowed so much bad to happen?

His eyes are like saucers, deep and haunting in their unspoken, shared grief. He does not relish in his duty... but does it all the same. "Fine," is all they can manage to squeak without sounding like one of Howlfire's mewling kittens in the nursery... They slink like a hunted mouse to leave, pausing at the threshold, "I really am sorry..." and scurry to leave before they can be softly admonished for their foolishness.

-- out! [ tysm marq i am giving blaze a kiss on the forehead ]​